


Harry Potter and the Avatar's Return

by pristineungift



Series: Harry Potter AUs & Crossovers [1]
Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra, Avatar: The Last Airbender, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Avatar State, BAMF Harry Potter, Bending (Avatar), Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Elemental Magic, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Martial Arts, Past Lives, Pre-Hogwarts, Spiritual, Wandless Magic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-12
Updated: 2016-05-12
Packaged: 2018-06-08 00:53:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6832255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pristineungift/pseuds/pristineungift
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After finding a torn comic in the trash when told to clean Dudley’s room, four year old Harry Potter puts it together with some odd things that have happened around him, and concludes that he’s the Avatar. </p><p>- Not a crossover so much as a fic in which Harry Potter is convinced that <i>Avatar: The Last Airbender</i> is a historical documentary.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Harry Potter and the Avatar's Return

**Author's Note:**

> **Avatar Canon:** While some knowledge of Avatar would probably enrich the story for you, the only thing you really need to know is that ‘bending’ is the art of controlling an element (Water, Earth, Air, Fire) through a martial art form, and only the Avatar can bend more than one element. Metalbending is a subset of earthbending, and bloodbending/healing is a subset of waterbending. The Avatar State is when the Avatar enters a trance where they have access to all the power and memories of their past lives, and it takes time for them to learn to control.

_ Water. Earth. Fire. Air. People used to tell stories about the old days, a time of peace when the Avatar kept balance between the Water Tribes, Earth Kingdom, Fire Nation, and Air Nomads. Only the Avatar could master all four elements. Only he could stop those who would oppress others. But when the world needed him most, he vanished. Hundreds of  years have passed and people have forgotten. If any Avatars have been born, they have not known it. Even the art of bending has passed into myth. The cycle is broken. But hope is not lost, for here, now, the Avatar has returned to save the world. _

-l-

By the time Boy was four, he could already read. He had to so that he could understand the lists of chores Aunt Petunia gave him, and the instructions on how to cook the Dursleys’ favorite meals. He taught himself from Dudley’s collection of neglected educational toys. He  _ had _ to learn, so that he could avoid being locked in his cupboard.

Boy hated the Dursleys, and he didn’t. He wanted something from them, something he couldn’t quite express. He’d say he wanted to be treated like Dudley, but that wasn’t quite right, as he could see for himself that Dudley was  _ horrible _ .

Mostly he just wished they would like him, a little. Or at least not yell so much. And let him have some food. And believe him when he said he didn’t know how certain things happened, like when the garden watered itself, or when Boy jumped when he was running from Aunt Marge’s dog, Ripper, and somehow ended up at the top of a tree like the wind had carried him there.

But they didn’t believe him, and they did yell, and they didn’t like him, not even a little, and Boy had never known anything else that he could remember, so he hated them, and he didn’t.

That was, until a day not long after he turned four when he was told to clean Dudley’s room.

Now, Boy being made to clean Dudley’s room was not unusual. He had done it many times. He even preferred it, out of most of his other chores, because it gave him the opportunity to pocket things he didn’t think Dudley would miss too much, and to read the books that Dudley never touched, but wouldn’t give up simply because he knew Boy wanted them.

But this time, something was different. 

It was half hidden under the bed, when Boy found it, the thing that made his whole world make sense. The cover was torn, as were the first two pages, and there was a partially melted toffee sticking it to the floor. It was a comic book entitled  _ Avatar: The Last Airbender _ .

At first Boy didn’t realize how momentous the discovery of this book was. As was his habit, he prised it up from the floor, and carefully taped the front of the book back together. Since Dudley had wrecked it, he was able to justify putting it in one of the rubbish bags he’d brought into the room with him. He always brought two - one for actual rubbish, and one for things too rubbish for Dudley to miss if Boy took them. Usually it was broken crayons and torn books. Dudley would pitch a fit if he suspected Boy had so much as a block to his name, but he didn’t value reading and writing, so he was less apt to notice when Boy took those things.

No, it wasn’t until Boy had finished his day of work and been locked in his cupboard for the evening that he understood just what he had in his hands.

He wasn’t allowed to use the bare bulb in his cupboard at night, as the Dursleys didn’t want to waste electricity on a freak like him, so he had to count on the light from the hall. It shone in stripes through the grate in the door, and if Boy squished himself up against the door and maneuvered, he could read in the slanted light until the Dursleys turned the hall light off.

That night, Boy discovered a world where people could bend the elements to their will through the use of martial arts techniques and meditation. And Boy realized something.

The garden that watered itself. The wind that carried Boy to the top of a tree. Boy was a bender, and he could bend more than one element.

Boy was the Avatar.

-l-

The next time Boy was locked outside and told not to come back ‘til it was time for him to cook dinner, he took off running for the library. He went there whenever he had a chance, since it was a good place to get away from Dudley, but this time he was on a mission. He needed to find more books about the Avatar.

He was pleased to find that there was more than a few comics. There was an entire television series about the Avatar called Aang, and another about the next incarnation named Korra. They both lived a long time ago, Boy could tell by their clothes and how the cars and stuff were. He wondered if maybe people had forgotten about bending, and he was the first Avatar to realize what he was in a long time. 

Over the course of several weeks, Boy used the library’s computer lab to watch all of the  TV series on a website called Hulu. The librarian that helped him had been concerned at first, but when he told her that he was the Avatar she smiled and said, “Well, I guess you do have a mark on your forehead, just like the boy in the show.”

That was Boy’s next big epiphany. Aunt Petunia hated his scar because it showed that he was the Avatar. And the Dursleys were clearly like the people in Avatar Korra’s story who didn’t like bending.

Boy wondered if his parents had been benders, and that was the real reason the Dursleys hated talking about them. He wondered what elements they could bend. He’d guess water and air, since those were the first two that he did, but he knew from his studies that the Avatar learned elements in order of the Avatar cycle, so there was no telling really.

He doubted they had died in a car crash now. He bet it had been a fierce battle against the elements to save a town or something. Maybe they stopped a hurricane. Or maybe someone found out that Boy was the Avatar and his parents fought to keep him when bad guys tried to take him away. Boy both loved and hated that idea, because it would be wonderful if his parents fought for him, but terrible if he was the reason they were gone.

-l-

After realizing what he was and why the Dursleys hated him, Boy didn’t mind their treatment so much. He was the Avatar, and the Avatar must never give in to negative emotions, and must always try to understand other people, even when he didn’t want to and it was hard. Boy was determined to be like Avatar Aang, who was his hero.

When the Dursleys didn’t feed him, that was alright. Sometimes the Air Nomad monks fasted, and Boy was the Avatar, and must learn what he had come to think of as the Old Ways.

When the Dursleys locked him in his dark cupboard, Boy practiced his breathing and meditation. Breath was very important for firebending, and he wanted to learn Toph’s way of earthbending, and what better way to emulate a blind person than in total darkness?

When the Dursleys gave him lists of chores, he turned them into exercises to strengthen his bending, and practiced doing so in a way that the Dursleys didn’t notice. Firebending and waterbending were very helpful when cooking.

When the Dursleys shouted and shoved him around, Boy bore it calmly. He understood now that they were afraid of him. They were afraid he would be like Azula or Fire Lord Ozai, and use his bending to hurt people. They didn’t know how bending worked, so if anything went wrong, their fear led them to believe that he had done it. Getting mad at them wouldn’t do anything but make them more afraid. If he ever wanted them to see he was just a person like they were, he would have to keep being nice.

It was hard, and Boy didn’t always manage to act how he thought the Avatar should, but he tried. Aang was just a kid when he fought in a war, and if Aang could do  _ that _ , then Boy could do  _ this _ .

-l-

By the time Boy turned five, he was able to metalbend enough to open the bolt on the outside of his cupboard door. He took to sneaking into the back garden at night to practice his bending. He copied what he saw benders do in the shows about Aang and Korra, still going to the library to watch the episodes again and again, until he had them memorized. They were his past lives, and he had to learn from them.

The night of his birthday - he knew when his birthday was because Dudley liked to tease him about not getting any presents or a party - he went outside and bent a small wind, then a spark of flame, then made the pavers around the flower garden stand at attention, and finished it off with a stream of water from the garden hose. Releasing the elements, he breathed out and centered himself as he had seen Aang do many times.

“I am Avatar Zuko,” he said into the still night air.

A name. It was a birthday gift to himself, and something he had meditated on for a long time. He knew that he was probably descended from the Air Nomads or the Water Tribe, since those elements were easiest, and he had green eyes and dark hair like an earthbender, but he had chosen a Fire Nation name for a reason. It was a reminder to himself, a way to keep himself from scaring the Dursleys.

Zuko was a prince of the Fire Nation, and an enemy of Avatar Aang for a long time. Zuko struggled with anger, just like Boy did, but eventually saw his way to asking for forgiveness and joining Avatar Aang. By taking the name Zuko, Boy was promising himself to keep control of his fiery temper. And there was something else too.

When Boy had first started watching the show about Aang, he’d hated the Fire Nation. They were bad and mean and they had to be stopped. But as he watched, and listened to Aang’s words, he learned that they were just people. And that was why Boy was now Zuko.

So he would always remember that his enemies were people.

-l-

That fall Zuko and Dudley started school, and Zuko learned that he had another name, one he’d been born with.

The teacher made them line up so that she could call their names and assign them to a carpet square. One by one the children were called, until only Zuko was left standing.

The teacher was nice. She smiled at him and asked his named. “I am Avatar Zuko,” Zuko replied, and bowed. The teacher gave him a strange look, and Zuko thought it must have been because he had a Fire Nation name, but he used an Air Nomad bow. Maybe he should bow in the Fire Nation style in the future, so as not to confuse people. It was just that he wanted  _ so much _ to be like Avatar Aang…

“Are you sure?” the teacher asked. 

Zuko swept his hair back to show his scar, so that she’d see he really was the Avatar. The teacher’s eyes widened, and Zuko nodded to her in what he hoped was a wise way.

“Really?” the teacher said, sounding concerned. “It’s just that the only name I have left on my list is Harry Potter. You’re sure that’s not your name?”

Zuko frowned. “I have never been called anything else.” That was true. ‘Boy’ and ‘Freak’ weren’t proper names, Zuko had checked on the library computer. The only proper name he’d ever had was Avatar Zuko. He assumed his parents hadn’t gotten around to naming him, because surely if they had, Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia would have called him that instead of ‘Boy.’ Wouldn’t they?

“Nuh-uh!” Dudley burst out. “He’s my cousin, and his name is Freak!”

“That is enough, Dudley Dursley, unless you want to start your first day in time out!” the teacher declared. 

Dudley pouted and made an ugly face at Zuko, which Zuko didn’t react to. The teacher huffed, and then got her assistant to watch the class while she walked with Zuko to the school’s office. Once they were there, Zuko was told to stand against the wall while the teacher talked to the Headmistress. Zuko practiced his earthbending stance while he waited. Horse stance wasn’t that hard anymore, but using the same stance as Toph was still pretty difficult. Zuko hoped that maybe one of the teachers at the school would be able to help him.

Eventually Zuko’s teacher and the Headmistress of the school called Zuko into the Headmistress’ office and had him sit in a chair while they called Aunt Petunia and put her on speaker phone.

“The boy is deeply disturbed!” Aunt Petunia screeched, sounding panicked. Zuko belatedly realized that she probably wouldn’t want anyone to know he was the Avatar since bending scared her so much. “We’ve taken him to doctors, but they say they can’t help him!”

Zuko didn’t remember ever going to the doctor. He must have been a baby. Had they tried to have doctors take his bending away? Zuko was glad that it seemed that secret had died with Aang.

“Yes, well, the fact of the matter is the boy won’t answer to his birth name,” the Headmistress sniffed.

That was when Zuko realized that he was Harry Potter after all. It was exciting and upsetting all at once, because it meant that his relatives had known and still called him ‘Boy,’ but on the other hand now he could Google himself. Maybe he’d be able to find out his parents’ names, or even a picture!

“Just call him whatever he wants, it’s best to humor his delusions,” Aunt Petunia spit out. “Otherwise he can get violent!”

She was still terrified of him. Maybe it was the Fire Nation name. Zuko tried to put her at ease, not realizing as he did so that his words combined with his adult mien gave his teacher and the Headmistress an ominous chill. “Don’t worry, Aunt Petunia. I won’t set anything on fire.”

The two women in the room made eye contact over his head. Zuko was told to go back in the hall, though this time he was to stay within arm’s reach of the secretary. 

When his teacher came out, she said, “The Headmistress and I have spoken with your aunt, Avatar Zuko, and we think that it’s best you go into a special class. Would you like that?”

Zuko really didn’t have a preference, so he simply smiled and bowed, careful to use a Fire Nation bow this time.

He was led to the Special Education classrooms, where his old teacher told his new teacher that Zuko had something called autism, and he could be violent if his worldview was challenged. Zuko sighed. He’d already promised not to do any bending, even if he was mad. 

He’d just have to show them, if they wouldn’t believe him. It just made him sad, how much people seemed to have forgotten about him. The Avatar was supposed to protect everyone, not just benders.

-l-

Zuko stayed in the Special Education class. The Dursleys brayed loudly that he was a ‘retard’ to anyone who would listen.

Zuko liked the special class. There were only four other students, so he got a lot of individual attention with the teacher. Two of the other students acted like they were still babies, one was deaf, and the last in a wheelchair. Zuko asked himself what Aang would do, and then went about helping the teacher as much as he could with the two who were like big babies (Michelle and Will), learned sign language along with Amy, and pushed Chris when he was tired of rolling his chair himself.

When Mr. John - that was the special teacher - caught Zuko reading to the other students in the special class, he gave Zuko a test.

When the test came back, Mr. John told Zuko that Zuko was really smart and much more aware of and in control of his feelings than a normal boy his age. There was something about him that made him different from other people. But, as they’d been learning in special class, normal didn’t mean good, and different didn’t mean bad, so it was alright with Zuko.

When Mr. John started teaching Zuko special subjects just for him, it was even better.

-l-

The first time Dudley tried to get a gang of boys to help him chase down Zuko, he got in trouble for picking on a ‘special needs child.’ Zuko didn’t want things done differently for him just because he was a bender, but he didn’t want to have to fight off a gang of non-benders either.

In the end, he decided that being forced to use his bending against his cousin would be worse than getting special treatment.

-l-

It wasn’t until he was six and Dudley made up a song about ‘Zuko the Hobo’ that Zuko realized how bad his clothes were. He’d never noticed before.

He was embarrassed and mad and he could feel the fire sparking in his breath, so at the beginning of class he asked Mr. John for quiet time. Mr. John let him go in the corner with the bean bags and the soft toys that didn’t hurt, and Zuko threw them around with his bending forms until he felt better, and then knelt to meditate.

When he was done, he decided that it was alright. Many Air Nomads took vows of poverty, which meant that Zuko didn’t have to be embarrassed about his clothes. He would ask Mr. John to teach him to sew, and he would try to make his clothes fit. He was still the Avatar, no matter what he wore.

When he went to the table for his morning snack, Mr. John asked if he liked martial arts. 

-l-

That weekend Zuko learned that Mr. John had called Aunt Petunia and told her that martial arts might help with Zuko’s “issues.” He’d found a place that would give Zuko lessons for free, as a favor to Mr. John.

When Aunt Petunia hesitated, Mr. John mentioned that of course Dudley could go too. Dudley’s outcry at potentially being denied ‘ninja lessons’ ultimately decided the matter.

Zuko couldn’t stop smiling. He would learn proper bending forms at last.

-l-

In Zuko’s first bending class, he bent all four elements to prove to his teacher that he needed to learn all the styles since he was the Avatar. 

There was dead silence before someone screamed, and someone else proclaimed it the coolest thing ever, and the teacher looked like having the Avatar in his class was going to make him faint, and then there were loud cracks like thunder and men in robes appeared.

Zuko caught his breath. Other benders at last!

But before he could open his mouth to speak, the robed men were sending flashes of light at everyone in the room. Zuko would have been hit too, except his arm came up out of reflex, raising a concrete block to deflect the light.

Just as soon as the men had appeared, they were gone. And more disturbingly, no one in the room remembered the past ten minutes.

Zuko hugged himself, trying to keep from shaking. He’d never realized there was such a thing as memorybending!

-l-

After that Zuko was very careful to only do the bending forms in class, without actually bending anything. He wasn’t sure why, but it seemed like those memorybenders didn’t want anyone to know about bending, and he didn’t want to take any chances.

He was going to have his work cut out for him when he was older, trying to put the world back in balance.

-l-

Dudley surprised Zuko by keeping up in their martial arts class. Zuko had rather expected him to quit after he realized it would be effort. Maybe it was the promise of violence, but for whatever reason, Dudley was devoted to practicing. He even went on a diet after Sifu went to their house and told Uncle Vernon that Dudley had the potential to be a champion if he started eating better.

It gave Zuko hope that Dudley would one day stop being afraid of benders, if he was so dedicated to their ways. Dudley had even stopped bullying other kids once Sifu threatened not to teach him anymore. Well, mostly anyway. Dudley could still be mean when he was around Piers Polkiss, and he still treated Zuko like an unwanted dog when they were at home, but still. Zuko thought Dudley might be okay, when he got old enough not to listen to Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon so much.

Zuko already had a lot of practice not listening to Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon.

-l-

Zuko was eight and a half when he first managed to contact the spirit of his previous incarnation.

He was locked in his cupboard and practicing his meditation, trying to reach out to the spirit realm, when he suddenly found himself in a shadowy stone chamber. There was a tall man with red eyes and pale skin standing across from him. His hair was dark and wavy, and reached his shoulders. He looked very Fire Nation to Zuko’s eyes, with his black robes and aristocratic bearing.

Zuko gave a Fire Nation bow, that of a student to an elder.

“Look into my eyes,” his previous self said once Zuko had straightened, and Zuko complied, finding himself caught in that red gaze.

An eternity passed in a second. Their spirits and memories merged and divided, arguments, debates, battles fought, won, and lost in an instant. Zuko learned that his previous incarnation was born as Tom Marvolo Riddle, but later took a different name, much as Zuko himself had. 

“Avatar Voldemort,” Zuko said, and bowed again.

There was a pause, but Zuko’s supreme belief - the pure belief of a child - in the legend of the Avatar had overridden the will of the small fragment of Voldemort’s soul that resided in the boy’s body.  Convinced that he was not a horcrux, but the part of Voldemort’s spirit that was meant to guide the next Avatar, the spirit bowed and said, “Avatar Zuko. I’m sorry for the mess you’ve inherited. In my defense, I never realized that I was the Avatar. Or even knew that such a being existed.”

“I know,” Zuko said, his eyes brimming with tears. “I remember. You didn’t even know, but you were still worried. You still tried to restore the Old Ways. You tried. You just…”

“I tried to conquer. I wanted vengeance. I wasn’t aiming for balance, though you’re kind to comfort me. I was - I am filled with hate and rage, and I unbalanced the world even more. I even went so far as to try to kill the next Avatar. Your parents…”

“Not your fault!” Zuko interrupted, rushing forward to hug Voldemort around the waist, seeming childish for the first time in a long time. “I think… I think when you made the first horcrux, you split the Avatar spirit. So you were sort of the Avatar, and sort of not. And once you’d split it enough times…”

Voldemort closed his eyes and returned Zuko’s embrace, “I weakened the Avatar spirit enough to trigger the birth of another Avatar. You. And because the Avatar is meant to maintain the balance of the world, of course you would have been destined to stop me. And because your spirit is whole, when I attempted to kill you, you likely entered the Avatar state and rebounded my curse upon me.”

Zuko buried his face in Voldemort’s robes and wept. Voldemort’s lips twitched down in distaste, but he continued to hold the small boy, awkwardly patting his back. Zuko knew from his - their - memories that Voldemort didn’t like tears, but he’d put up with Zuko’s since Zuko was Voldemort’s reincarnation.

After what seemed like hours, but in real time was only a fraction of a second, Zuko’s sobs subsided and he stood back. “Thanks,” he said thickly, swallowing hard.

Voldemort inclined his head, then conjured a table and two chairs. “We have plans to make.”

Zuko nodded and clambered into a chair. “I didn’t realize I could do more than just bending. Well, I think it’s all probably bending of some kind, it’s just gotten more advanced and stuff over the years. And somehow we forgot about our origins, and now the non-benders think it’s just a story.”

Voldemort leaned back, crossing his legs at the knee. “I will teach you wizardry when you visit me here. I know we shared our memories, but I’m not certain you’ll be able to access them during your day to day life. Aang and Korra certainly couldn’t call up their previous incarnations without meditating or invoking the Avatar State. You should also instruct me in bending. It’s likely that in the Avatar State that I will have the most influence over you, and if I cannot bend it could make you clumsy.”

Zuko smiled. “You don’t have to make up excuses, you know. Of course I’ll teach you bending. You’re an Avatar. It’s your right to know it.”

Voldemort snorted and turned to stare at one of the stone walls. Zuko looked around.

“So this is the Chamber of Secrets. And it’s in Hogwarts?”

“Yes.”

They were both quiet then, both of them reliving Voldemort’s memories of finding the chamber and unleashing the basilisk within.

“Azula,” Zuko said. 

“Pardon?” Voldemort raised a brow. 

“The basilisk. She needs a name. We should call her Azula. When I get to Hogwarts I’ll talk to her about being the Avatar. The other incarnations of us that we know of had animal guides. Roku’s dragon, Aang’s sky bison, Korra’s polarbeardog... I think the basilisk was supposed to be yours, and now she’ll be mine.”

Voldemort’s forehead creased as he thought. “You may be right. But you realize you might not be able to speak to her? We can’t be sure whether Parseltongue is part of being the Avatar now since I could do it, or if it was unique to my ancestry.”

Zuko shrugged. “Well, if I can’t speak it, we’ll just wait until I’ve mastered the Avatar State and then you can help me talk to her.”

“That could work,” Voldemort ceded. “We should test if you can understand a regular snake. Keep on the look out for one when you’re gardening. Now,” he said abruptly, changing the topic, “we’ve agreed that you will continue to meditate in order to speak with me so that we can teach each other. It is a given that we will go to Hogwarts. I think it would be prudent if we spent our summers gathering my horcruxes. Merging our minds even as briefly as we did… changed me. I believe that if we release the rest of my soul fragments they too can be cleansed. It is also likely that doing so will strengthen the Avatar State, since I never completely died.”

“Sounds good to me.” Zuko leaned forward, resting his chin in his hands. “I wonder if the reason you were so afraid of death was because some part of you knew about the importance of the Avatar. Like how if we die in the Avatar State, then there are no more Avatars.”

Voldemort didn’t answer. Shrugging, Zuko hopped up. “I’m not sure how much time passes when we’re like this, so I think I should go make sure we haven’t been in a coma for three days or something. I’ll see you tomorrow night.”

-l-

When Zuko opened his eyes, he found that his face was covered with blood and his scar was swollen and hurt when he touched it.

-l-

The Dursleys, though Zuko did not know it, had never treated Zuko as badly as they would have if he hadn’t found that Avatar comic book so many years ago. Because of all his training and secret bending practice, he never had any outbursts of accidental magic. Because of his discipline, he rarely talked back or did anything that could be construed as threatening. Consequently, the Dursleys mostly ignored him, except for when they were making themselves look good to the neighbors by spouting off about how they cared for their ‘special’ nephew.

That all changed when Zuko was ten and he beat Dudley in a martial arts tournament. 

It didn’t matter that Dudley had managed to scrape third place, or that Dudley himself seemed pleased with placing at all. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon took pictures with both boys and their trophies, smiles frozen on their faces, and then hustled them into the car. 

“You little freak!” Vernon spat. “How dare you use your unnaturalness to show up our Dudders!”

He continued to harangue Zuko all the way home, and as soon as the front door closed behind them, he bodily threw the boy down the hall, his face purple with rage. Zuko struck the wall, and something inside him seemed to boil and then erupt. He wasn’t sure if it was his temper, Voldemort’s, or both, but he was  _ furious _ .

His scar started bleeding. The house started shaking. An unseen wind tossed his messy black hair, and ruffled Petunia’s dress.

“What are you doing? Stop it! Freak!” Petunia screamed.

Dudley, exercising the conflict resolution skills they’d been taught by Sifu, tried to get his parents to leave the room until Zuko calmed down. Aunt Petunia listened, though she glared the entire way out.

Uncle Vernon would not hear of allowing anyone time to regain their cool. He raised a meaty fist over Zuko’s head and started to bring it down.

Zuko blocked it with one skinny forearm, and when he looked up, his eyes were glowing red. “Hmm,” he said, a man’s deeper timbre overlaying the usual childish tenor of his voice. “The Avatar State seems to leave me in control, as the most recent past life. Interesting.”

With as little effort as one might take with swatting a fly, Zuko flicked his wrist and Vernon was levitated and flung into the living room, leaving just Dudley standing at the end of the hall, his mouth open in shock.

“H-harry?” Dudley asked.

“No,” Zuko’s body turned to face his cousin. “Zuko is… sleeping. I am Avatar Voldemort, the spirit of his past life.”

“Oh,” Dudley said. “Uh… what?”

Voldemort sighed. “Come child, I will give you a history lesson.”

-l-

When Zuko came to, he was tucked into bed in Dudley’s second bedroom, and Dudley was sitting at the desk.

“Here,” he said, offering a plate of cookies and a glass of milk. Suspecting a trick, Zuko just looked at him.

Dudley hastened to explain. “Avatar Voldemort explained stuff to me. About the Avatar line and magic and Hogwarts and bending and the forgotten stuff and everything. He said that I probably can’t learn bending or I’d have already noticed that I could do it, but there’s no reason that I can’t help you anyway. So I told Mum and Dad that I wanted you in my second bedroom and then I threw a wobbly until Mum went out and bought me all the Avatar comics and DVDs.”

Eyes so wide they might fall out of his head, Zuko let out a breathy, “Why?”

Dudley shrugged and looked down, taking one of the cookies and crumbling the edges all over the carpet. “Mum and Dad go on about how great I am, but if it weren’t for Sifu I reckon I’d be a right arsehole.” Sheepishly, he looked around at all the broken toys that surrounded them. Dudley’s second bedroom had long been nothing more than a storage closet for things he’d ruined - often on purpose. Though, now that Zuko thought about it, the frequency of that had gone down in the past year.

“So you want to help me?”

“Yeah?” Dudley said, wincing. “I know that Mum and Dad will find a way to be proud of me no matter what I do, but they’re kind of… yeah. I just want to be actually important and good and stuff, instead of spending all my time pretending I am, the way they do.”

Zuko smiled.

-l-

They decided between them that Dudley would try to become the non-bender Prime Minister. He had good grades because Sifu insisted that all of his students hone their minds as well as their bodies, and he was going to go to Smeltings in the next year, which would give him a decent shot at making connections and getting into a good college. With Avatar Voldemort to help him plan his career, he’d have a fair chance.

“It won’t be as exciting as Sokka traveling all over with Aang to stop the Fire Lord,” Zuko said one afternoon when they were sitting in Dudley’s room, playing on his X-Box, “but it will help the most.”

“I know,” Dudley grunted, mashing a button on his controller. “And Sokka became a councilman when he was older, so that’s kind of the same anyway. Might still get Sifu to teach me the sword though. You never know, I might need it.”

“Good plan,” Zuko agreed.

-l-

On Dudley’s eleventh birthday, he insisted that he wanted to go to the zoo, and yes he wanted Zuko to go, and no he didn’t want to invite anyone else. When Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon argued against bringing ‘the freak’ into public more than necessary, Dudley screwed up his face and pretended to cry.

Zuko bit his cheeks to keep from smirking, and took a few casual steps away from the dining table, in case Dudley really went whole hog and turned it over during his ‘tantrum.’ Aunt Petunia evidently smelled danger too, because she gave in, cooing at Dudley and glaring at Zuko at the same time, saying that of course Zuko could go if Dudley really wanted him to.

Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon had already accused Zuko of putting Dudley under a spell on multiple occasions, but after two more incidents of the Avatar State they tried not to antagonize him  _ too _ much.

Dudley and Zuko had a plan for the zoo. They were going to test and see if Zuko could talk to snakes on his own, or if he had to call up Voldemort to do it.

-l-

“That was so cool,” Dudley said later that night. They were on the floor of Dudley’s bedroom in sleeping bags. Dudley wanted to pretend that they were camping like Avatar Aang and his friends, and it was his birthday so Zuko went along with it, even if he’d rather be in a bed. After years of sleeping in a cupboard, sleeping on the floor wasn’t as exciting to him as it was to Dudley. Maybe he could suggest they pretend Dudley’s bed was Aang’s sky bison, Appa…

“Yeah, talking to snakes is pretty cool,” Zuko agreed. “I can’t believe that you convinced your parents to buy you one on the way home.”

“Well, this morning I only got thirty-six gifts,” Dudley said in a mocking voice. “And last year, last year I had thirty-seven!”

Both boys collapsed into laughter, and Iroh, Dudley’s new pet snake, hissed at them to be quiet.

“What’d he say?” Dudley asked.

“That you make dumb faces when you laugh.”

“Nuh-uh.”

“Yeah-huh.”

“Nuh-uh!”

“ _ Children _ !”

“......”

“What’d he say that time?”

-l-

On Zuko’s birthday, Dudley was the one to get the mail. Zuko felt his heart speed up when he heard Dudley running down the hall. Dudley wouldn’t be that excited unless -

“Zuko, it’s here! It’s here!” Dudley called, bursting into the kitchen and brandishing a thick parchment envelope.

“What’s here, Diddykins?” Petunia asked, turning from the stove where she was fussing with preparations for a casserole. Uncle Vernon lowered his newspaper.

“Zuko’s Hogwarts letter, of course!” Dudley announced, handing the letter to Zuko as he did so.

Aunt Petunia paled, and Uncle Vernon went through more colors than could be healthy, before settling on mottled purple. “He’s not going!”

“Yes he is!” Dudley shouted.

Vernon looked like he might strike Dudley, but was restraining himself just barely. 

Zuko interrupted with what Voldemort had told him to say when this moment came. “I’m going so I can keep my end of the deal I made with Dudley.”

“You made a deal with Dudley?!” Aunt Petunia shrieked. “Oh, Diddydums, has he threatened you? Hurt you?!”

Dudley stepped forward so that he was between his parents and Zuko. “No, Mum!” he yelled, then made a visible effort to get a hold of himself. “Zuko and I made a deal after I found out he can do freaky stuff,” Dudley followed their script. “I’m going to go into politics, and Zuko is going to study magic, and when we graduate he’s going to use his powers to help me become Prime Minister.”

That got Petunia and Vernon’s attention.

“Prime Minister?” Petunia trilled, her hands on her cheeks.

Vernon narrowed his eyes. “You said a deal. What’s your part of it, son?”

Dudley shrugged and continued to shield Zuko. “Already did my part. I gave him my second bedroom and made sure he got at least one meal a day and got to come with us on outings. If I talk you ‘round into letting him go to Hogwarts, then that’s my part done.”

Vernon was nodding. “Shrewd, Dudders. That’s my boy. I’ll not pay his school fees, though. That’s his lookout.”

Zuko let out a sigh of relief and silently thanked Voldemort for his help. “There’s a fund for impoverished students. I’ll ask to use that.”

At Uncle Vernon’s nod, Zuko looked down at the letter addressed to  _ Harry Potter, the Smallest Bedroom _ , and broke the wax seal.

-l-

_ Dear Deputy Headmistress McGonagall: _

_ I would like to accept the offered position at your school. Please note that for security reasons I have not been called ‘Harry Potter’ since I entered primary school, and I’m not used to answering to it. If you could please have the school use my new name from now on, I would appreciate it very much. _

_ Thank you, _

_ Avatar Zuko _

 

_ Formerly known as, _

_ Harry Potter _

-l-

_ Dear Mr. Potter: _

_ I am afraid that I am unable to honor your request, as Headmaster Dumbledore feels that you should reclaim your identity upon your return to our world. As there is no other magical adult with a blood or magical relation to you, he is your de facto guardian as of the moment you accepted enrollment in the school. Do not worry yourself. Famous name or not, you will be safe at Hogwarts. _

_ Sincerely, _

_ Minerva McGonagall _

_ Deputy Headmistress _

-l-

_ Professor McGonagall: _

_ With all due respect, my name is Avatar Zuko. I will not answer to anything else. If your school is unable to accommodate such a simple request, perhaps I will seek my education elsewhere. _

_ Thank you, _

_ Avatar Zuko _

-l-

_ Mr. Zuko: _

_ All school records have been altered to reflect your name change. Please let me know if you need any more assistance. _

_ Sincerely, _

_ Minerva McGonagall _

_ Deputy Headmistress _

-l-

Zuko took the non-bender bus to Diagon Alley, nervously repeating Voldemort’s instructions to himself. He hoped that things hadn’t changed  _ too _ much, or he wouldn’t know what to do.

Fortunately - or unfortunately, if it was indicative of the state of the world - Diagon Alley was much as it appeared in Voldemort’s memories. Zuko was able to easily navigate his way through the entrance at the Leaky Cauldron, and then made a beeline for Gringotts. For once, he was wearing his bangs combed over his identifying scar, along with some of his nicer hand me downs. He didn’t want to be identified as the Avatar until he knew how things stood in the wizarding world.

Once he’d entered Gringotts he stood patiently in line, and then bowed in the Goblin style to the teller, offering a respectful greeting in High Goblin, hoping that he’d gotten the pronunciation right. Voldemort had been teaching him all he knew about interacting with the different races, but there were so many that it was easy to get mixed up.

The Goblin gave him a rather grotesque looking grin, but returned the greeting, and immediately took Zuko to a private room.

“I am Griphook, young wizard,” the Goblin said, taking a seat at a long conference table.

Zuko sat down across from him. “I am Zuko, once known as Harry Potter, and I am here for three reasons.”

The Goblin’s rather spiky eyebrows climbed into his hairline. “And what reasons are those, Mr. Zuko?”

Zuko grimaced, careful to show all his teeth so that the Goblin wouldn’t think he was being insulted. “The first is to recall the keys to any vaults my parents may have left me, and the second is to claim all objects, monies, and vaults belonging to Tom Marvolo Riddle, also known as Lord Voldemort, by Right of Conquest.”

Voldemort had cautioned Zuko against revealing himself as Voldemort’s reincarnation. Though he was hesitant to mislead people, Zuko had to agree that it was likely people would attempt to make him pay for the crimes he committed in his past life and it would hinder Zuko from doing what he needed to do to fix things. Voldemort only had to mention the town that tried to boil Aang in oil for something done by his predecessor Avatar Kiyoshi to get the point across. And Aang wasn’t even Kiyoshi’s direct reincarnation!

Griphook gave a laugh that sounded like he was gargling gravel. “And what is the third reason you are here, young one?”

“I am here to tell you that the Avatar has returned.”

Griphook blinked. “The Avatar?”

Zuko raised a hand and sent a small whirlwind to put out the torches on the wall, then relit them with firebending. A stomp cracked the stone floor, and a clap fused it back together. There wasn’t any ready source of water in the room, and he wasn’t good enough yet to summon it out of the air, so Zuko stopped his demonstration there. 

Griphook was on his feet, rage turning his face into a grim mask. “Wizards are not permitted to use their wands within Gringotts!”

Though his heart was pounding, Zuko centered himself and took a deep breath, hoping his voice wouldn’t waver too much. “I don’t own a wand, Master Griphook. That was bending, not magic.”

“Bending? Explain!” Griphook demanded. His hand was on the hilt of the dagger he wore at his side, but he hadn’t drawn it yet, so Zuko had hope.

“Bending,” Zuko affirmed, folding his hands together to hide that they were shaking. “I will be happy to teach it to anyone who is able to learn, regardless of race. But first I need to tell you a story. The story of the Avatar…”

It was several hours before Zuko left Gringotts.

-l-

The rest of his visit to Diagon Alley was much less dramatic. He went to buy robes first, happy with the gold merrily clinking in his pocket. As much as he’d always tried to make the best of his circumstances and told himself to walk proud, he had to admit that the state of his clothes had always bothered him. It was nice to have money now.

In the robe shop, he found that most usual robe designs would hinder his bending, so he sketched Earth Kingdom style robes on a spare bit of parchment and ordered them made special. The robes had a high mandarin collar and fastened down the front. Slits along either side showed the loose trousers he would wear beneath and would give his legs freedom of movement. Zuko ordered six sets in black to wear on school days. For the weekends, he had one suit of clothes made in the style of each of the four nations: blue for the Water Tribe, red for the Fire Nation, orange and yellow for the Air Nomads, and green for the Earth Kingdom. Since he couldn’t pinpoint which of the four peoples he was descended from, he would honor all of them.

Wearing one of his new sets of robes out of the shop, Zuko paused to admire his reflection in a shop window. He looked so much better in clothes that weren’t worn! And wearing color, even if it was black, was a novel experience. By the time he got Dudley’s old clothes, they’d usually been faded into a uniform greyish-brown. Having these nice crisp black robes on made his eyes seem greener, his hair darker, and his skin bright.

He just wished that Aunt Petunia would either let him grow his hair out, or shave it all off. It stuck out all over the place. If it was long, Zuko would be able to wear it back in a topknot like the man he’d named himself for, and if he shaved it off then he’d be like Avatar Aang! But Aunt Petunia wouldn’t hear of either option. Only hippies and freaks had long hair, and he couldn’t shave it all off because he needed his bangs to ‘hide that hideous scar.’

So hard was he thinking about this, that it took Zuko a moment to realize that his hair was steadily growing longer as he watched. As soon as he noticed his eyes widened, and he looked around to make sure no one else had seen. Black hair flew around his face, less wild now with the weight to hold it down. It continued to grow until it fell just past his shoulders, and then stopped as quickly as it had begun.

Zuko studied his reflection again, and smoothed his bangs over his forehead to hide his scar. He’d have to ask Voldemort about this.

And figure out how to put his hair in a topknot.

-l-

In the bookstore, Zuko found that he didn’t have to try so hard to disguise himself. All the books about Harry Potter looked like the authors had just drawn a lightning bolt scar on a childhood picture of his father, James Potter. While Zuko did look a great deal like his father, his Earth Kingdom robes and long hair made him look different enough so as not to be readily identified, and he didn’t wear glasses at all. As soon as he’d realized his vision was going bad, he’d asked Voldemort for help, and together they’d worked on his waterbending healing until he was able to fix himself. He still had to make adjustments when his vision started worsening again, and it hurt a  _ lot _ , but a few hours of pain was better than wearing glasses that could easily be knocked off in the middle of a fight.

Zuko was disappointed not to find anything even mentioning the legend of the Avatar in passing in the entirety of Flourish and Blotts.

-l-

The wand shop was last, mostly because Zuko didn’t particularly want a wand. He’d learned from Voldemort just fine using his fingers and sometimes his whole arm to mimic the wand movements of a spell. It took more concentration and a greater deal of power than the average wizard or witch would be able to bring to bear for a simple charm, but Zuko could do it and he didn’t want to handicap himself by coming to rely on such a tool.

Voldemort was insistent though. He said a wand was an advantage they shouldn’t throw away, and he wanted Zuko to hide just how much he could do wandlessly, so that enemies would underestimate him. That made a sneaky sort of sense, so here Zuko was.

He ended up with the brother wand to Voldemort’s, which wasn’t that surprising, all things considered.

-l-

When he got home, Dudley made Petunia and Vernon ignore his new possessions and long hair and helped Zuko carry his things to his room. They would both spend the rest of the summer reading through Zuko’s course books and trying to figure out how topknots work.

-l-

After many years of tearing open every time Zuko called on Voldemort, Zuko’s scar was deep and stark, looking more like a ritually carved tattoo than an incidental mark. A week before he was to leave for Hogwarts, Zuko brewed a color changing potion from a recipe in his new potions book and painted it over his scar with a brush from a long abandoned art kit of Dudley’s.

It turned the lightning bolt a bright blue, blue as the sky, blue like Avatar Aang’s tattoos. With Zuko’s hair pulled back in a topknot, it stood out bold and proud on his forehead.

When Zuko boarded the Hogwarts Express, there would be no doubt that he was the Avatar.

-l-

On September 1st, the Dursleys drove Zuko to King’s Cross, and Dudley walked him to the barrier between Platforms 9 and 10. Zuko’s trunk was on a cart in front of them, with Zuko’s snowy owl, Hawky, perched on his shoulder. Dudley’s snake, Iroh, was wrapped around Dudley’s neck, having refused to be left behind. 

“Well, Dud, this is it. I’ll write. Let me know if you need anything, or want any advice from You-Know-Who.”

Dudley snorted. They’d both had a right laugh when they found out how the wizarding world referred to Voldemort. “Yeah, I’ll let you know. Don’t worry, Iroh and I will be fine.”

They exchanged a backslapping hug, and then Zuko walked through the barrier.

-l-

Zuko managed to find a compartment and get his trunk stowed away before anyone noticed him. People were expecting a wild haired ragamuffin with glasses after all, so, prominently displayed scar or not, most people glanced at him, assumed ‘asian pureblood,’ and then went about their business.

It couldn’t last forever, of course.

It started with a redhead who wanted to share his compartment. Then there was a plump boy who was looking for his lost toad, and a bushy haired girl who was being quite bossy, if Zuko were to be honest. It wasn’t until the girl showed up and introduced herself that the others remembered their manners.

“I’m Hermione Granger. And you are?”

“I’m Ron Weasley.”

“Neville Longbottom.”

“I am Avatar Zuko, though I was once called Harry Potter.”

“Are you really?!” Ron blurted.

“Of course he’s not!” Hermione huffed. “He doesn’t look like the pictures in the books at all. They say quite clearly that he looks like his father, but with his mother’s eyes. He’s not even wearing glasses!”

“But he’s got the scar,” Ron argued.

“That’s a tattoo,” Hermione countered.

Neville stayed quiet.

“Well,” Hermione crossed her arms. “Aren’t you going to say anything?”

Zuko shrugged one arm. “Your belief, or lack of it, can’t change the truth of who I am. I see no reason to argue with you about it.”

Hermione didn’t seem to like that response. She pressed her lips into a thin line, her face reddening. “You’re not fooling me with that ‘Avatar Zuko’ nonsense either. Zuko was never the Avatar, and besides that, that’s a TV show. It’s made up.”

Now Zuko smiled. “Like Merlin?”

Hermione gaped and Ron guffawed, Neville raising a hand to hide a smile.

“So you really are Harry Potter, then,” Ron said once he could breathe again. “Do you remember that night?”

Zuko’s expression grew grave. “I do. But I don’t want to talk about it now. Instead, I’d like to tell you a story. A history that has long been forgotten, but is no less true. Please, sit down.”

Ron and Neville were eager to listen, as was Hermione, though she tried hard to act as if she was doing him a favor and was only there to keep him from ‘tricking Neville with his fibs.’ Zuko waited until they’d gotten comfortable, then he leaned back, closed his eyes, and began.

“Water. Earth. Fire. Air. People used to tell stories about the old days, a time of peace when the Avatar kept balance between the Water Tribes, Earth Kingdom, Fire Nation, and Air Nomads. Only the Avatar could master all four elements…”

By the time they reached Hogsmeade, Zuko’s compartment was full of students in a listening hush, as was the doorway and hallway surrounding it.

-l-

When the Sorting Hat was placed on Zuko’s head, it gasped. Then it grew quiet and chewed on its own brim. Minutes passed, first ten, then twenty, then thirty. People started to whisper and point. Professor McGonagall shot a look at the High Table. This was the longest Hatstall in living memory.

Finally the hat shook itself, opened its mouth and exclaimed, “Rejoice, for the Avatar has returned!”

“What do you mean?” McGonagall demanded. “Sort the child and have done with it!”

The Sorting Hat turned its impression of a face to look at her. “No. The Avatar belongs to all Houses, not just one. Every House will be open to Avatar Zuko, but like all Avatars before him, he shall not place one above any other.”

Headmaster Dumbledore had by that time descended from the High Table to stand next to Professor McGonagall. “Ah, but it is Hogwarts tradition,” Dumbledore began.

The Sorting Hat laughed. “The Avatar Cycle began long before this castle was built, and will hopefully continue long after it has crumbled back to dust. The Avatar belongs to all Houses. Hogwarts has spoken!”

And with that, the hat refused to say any more.

-l-

While the professors were arguing over what was to be done, and the students were pointing and gossiping, Zuko took the hat off and placed it on top of the stool used for the sorting. He bowed to it, and then calmly walked over to the Hufflepuff table.

“What’s this, Potter, sorting yourself?” a rat faced boy asked. 

Zuko took a seat next to a girl he thought was named Susan Bones. “You heard the hat. I belong to every House. Today I’m sitting with Hufflepuff. Tomorrow I’ll sit with Slytherin.”


End file.
